Brothers Forever, Pranksters For Life
by Moony44
Summary: Spoilers for Deathly Hallows: George is packing up the joke shop after the final battle, reminiscing about Fred and all the memories they shared. Songfic to Stop This Train by John Mayer.


**One-shot to Stop This Train by John Mayer. It is such a touching song, about never wanting to grow older for fear of time going by too fast. It fits perfectly with the Fred/George situation. I warn you, this may be a bit of slow story, but it is meant to touch your hearts and feel the pain that George is feeling.**

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George heaved a sigh as he slowly unlocked the door of his joke shop for the last time. He turned on the lights and couldn't help smiling just a little at the sight before him. Fred and him had made this shop their dream. Jokes and pranks were on every wall, color bursting from each corner of the small but booming store. Nosebleed nougats, Ton-Tongue Toffees, Canary Creams, and every sweet imaginable was stuffed half-hazardly onto the already full shelves. Hats, strings, and other miscellaneous items dangled from the ceiling. A little display of bouncy pygmy puffs was centered in the middle of the store. There was barely enough room to walk by himself, with everything so scattered, even without the bustle of customers. His heart felt like lead in his body, weighing him down. He could no longer go on with the joke shop without Fred. It was no longer right. That was why he was closing the shop. He felt like everything was going by so fast. Everything was speeding away; he knew life was short, but this was just too fast. Why couldn't he just put it on pause for one second?

_No, I'm not colorblind_

_I know the world is black and white_

_Try to keep an open mind_

_But I just can't sleep on this tonight_

George roamed around the shop, picking up a few items and came to the front desk, emptying the cash register into a pouch he would later take to Gringotts. He ran his slim fingers over the top of the ancient wooden table.

_Stop this train_

_I wanna get off_

_And go home again_

_I can't take the speed it's moving in_

_I know I can't_

_But honestly, won't someone stop this train?_

His fingers stopped when they got to an abrasion in the wood, then continued. His closed his eyes, savoring the counter that they had sold so many genius jokes on. He halted again when he felt an incision in the delicate wood. His eyes steadily rose open and he saw an inscription, written years ago, on the very day the shop was opened. It read daintily in cursive: _Weasly's Wizard Wheezes. Date: February 17, 1996. Created By: Fred and George Weasly. _

Then, a hand-written inscription that Fred had wrote, below the cursive one.

_Brothers forever, pranksters for life. _

His eyes swelled up with unpredicted tears and they came down his freckled face. He couldn't shake the image of Fred, right after the battle, on the stone ground, his eyes no longer as whimsical like they used to be. The picture haunted him day and night, a constant reminder of what had happened to Fred, Moody, Tonks, Lupin, and countless other friends that had died in the last battle.

_Don't know how else to say it_

_Don't want to see my parents go_

_One generation's length away_

_From fighting life out on my own_

George stepped out from behind the counter, promising himself he would see the table again. He had realized that everything in this shop, from the countertops to the items was a mirror of Fred and George. If they found some awesome picture in a funky store on a trip to a random place, they would buy it and display it in their shop. Or they took pictures in front of funny signs, or other humorous things found in their travels.

_Stop this train_

_I wanna get off_

_And go home again_

_I can't take the speed it's moving in_

_I know I can't_

_But honestly, won't someone stop this train?_

He turned a corner of Fred and his--or now just his--store. He came up to a picture, and grinned slightly, remembering that day clearly. It was a sunny day in Hogwarts castle, years ago. Fred and George were joking around by the lake (what else is new?) and Fred pushed George and George fell straight into the Black Lake. He came out soaking wet and then surprised Fred by pulling him into the lake. They were both dripping and grinning from ear to ear. They had made Ginny take a picture of it, much to her playful annoyance. They were both smiling widely and waving goofily into the camera in front of the lake.

George frowned again, tears forming in his eyes once more. He took the picture gently off the wall, folding down the tape that had been taped to each corner of the picture. He let a single tear slide down his face and continued to pack up all his items in brown construction boxes. He could've easily saved time by making all the items pack themselves with his wand. But what memories would he have if he did that?

_So scared of getting older_

_I'm only good at being young_

_So I play the numbers game_

_To find a way to say that life has just begun_

Where would he be in years after this joke shop? Being in the department of Magical Law Enforcement, like Hermione wanted him to? _No_, he always firmly told himself. He would do something he equally love. Or tried to love equally. Just not pranks. It wasn't the same. It was never the same after Fred passed. He was his other half, his best friend, his twin. George couldn't make a good joke without his right-hand man by his side. Fred was always the leader of the two, with George mostly trailing behind. But not that far behind. He never knew how much he needed him until he was gone.

_Had a talk with my old man_

_Said "help me understand"_

_He said "turn sixty-eight_

_You re-negotiate"_

George never understood why things like this happen. He was pondering this as he put away the sweets corner of the store, stopping now and then to taste the candy that had been invented with his best friend. His father had taken him aside after Fred, and talked to him. Just talked. A million things popped out of his brilliant mind, but his father only said one thing that stuck.

_"Don't stop this train._

_Don't for a minute change the place you're in._

_And don't think I couldn't ever understand._

_I tried my hand,_

_George, honestly we'll never stop this train."_

George sighed and continued packing. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, all memories of him and his twin. The day they left Umbridge on brooms was the beginning of their fabulous career. Twists and turns came with that. When Harry had given them the money to start it all, when they bought the space in Diagon Alley, or when he and Fred were just messing around. They always liked to switch names and see who recognized them, or caught the prank.

He remembered some times he thought Fred might not have. When Ron got his prefect badge ("What are Fred and I? Next door neighbours?") or when the Weaslys, Harry and Hermione got their mum's hand-knitted sweaters. ("You haven't got a letter on yours," he [George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge.") George chuckled lightly and proceeded to pack.

_Once in awhile, when it's good_

_It'll feel like it should_

_And they're all still around_

_And you're still safe and sound_

_And you don't miss a thing_

_Till you cry when you're driving away in the dark_

_Singing_

One in awhile it did feel like it should. When he was thinking about where Fred was right now, and when he, George, would be able to see him again.

He hadn't realized he had packed up the entire shop. He had been having a fulfilling time just reminiscing. The joke shop looked empty compared to the once bursting shelves and joyful decorated walls. His eyes glazed over with a fresh batch of tears. He levitated the full boxes outside and waited until he fully closed up to apparate them home.

_Stop this train_

_I wanna get off_

_And go home again_

_I can't take the speed it's moving in_

_I know I can't_

_Cause now I see I will never stop this train_

He did a once-over of the shop to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His shaky hand moved towards to light-switch, flicking it down, making the shop look dismal. It was now night outside, and all you could see was the moonlight creating silhouettes on the vacant shelves. With a broken heart, he closed the door and slid the key into the lock, locking the door to his old joke shop for the very final time. He felt like a puppeteer was toying with his heartstrings as he remembered the inscription on the front desk.

_Brothers forever, pranksters for life._

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**AN: Okay, I was like tearing up when I wrote this. Seriously, the saddest thing I have ever written. I adore Fred and George. Please read and review. **


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